


The Warmth of the Sun

by MissHesterMofet



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHesterMofet/pseuds/MissHesterMofet
Summary: Liz is sleeping at the Post Office blacksite because her motel's power goes out. It isn't just the heat wave that's causing Liz to heat up though. Set after 2x11 Ruslan Denisov (No. 67)





	1. Cruel Summer

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic in this fandom! I hope you can be patient with me while I try to navigate how to get these characters right. This little bunny wouldn't leave me alone after I daydreamed about when I visited D.C. and it was so freaking hot! Title of the fic comes from a Beach Boys song.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz is sleeping at the Post Office blacksite because her motel's power goes out. It isn't just the heat wave that's causing Liz to heat up though. Set after 2x11 Ruslan Denisov (No. 67)

Elizabeth Keen returned to the Post Office glistening with sweat after her daily summer run. She was bent at the waist, hands on her knees gasping for air. Since Reddington refused to call off the new man following her, she took great pleasure in going for runs through the streets of D.C. and making him follow. She set a punishing pace for him, zig-zagging and doubling back. Was it childish? Maybe. But Liz took what she could get out of it. Even if that meant she paid the price by not properly cooling down after her runs.

The runs hadn’t been so bad when the winter melted into the beautiful, brisk spring. It helped Liz step out of her being for just a moment. She was no longer an FBI agent tangled in unknown yet complicated ways with one of the FBI’s Most Wanted. Instead, she was a body racing through the streets of Washington D.C. enjoying the sun shining on her while the cherry blossoms bloomed and fell around her. Her breathing harsh yet measured with only a slight bite in her lungs from the coolness in the air.

All too soon, the cool spring had given way to the brutally hot summer finally causing Liz to move her runs to the morning. The crisp air turned muggy and dense making each of her breaths a Herculean labor. The cherry trees that had looked like they were softly exploding into pink clouds turned into sad looking bare branches, a ghost of what they were only a few weeks before.

If that wasn’t enough to put Liz in a bad mood, a heat wave caused a massive power outage in the older parts of the city. Such as the neighborhood her motel was in.

At first, the motel manager had assured her that it would be fixed as soon as possible; a week tops. But as more and more places had their power go out, Liz saw little hope of it being fixed. She had started sleeping in her and Ressler’s office to escape the heat.

Granted it was only slightly better since the generators were only for keeping the technology cool and running properly. Even so, it was still cooler than her run down, stuffy motel room.

Ressler had offered her his couch, as did Aram, and even Navabi had mentioned a blow-up mattress in her living room. But she refused them all with vague excuses. She wasn’t sure how to convey to them her need to be alone after living with a liar for so long. How uncomfortable she was just thinking about sharing a space with someone again.

Liz tossed her keys onto her desk and flopped onto her back on the couch. She stared at the tile ceiling letting her thoughts wander with her earphones still in as her workout playlist carried on.

It had been several weeks since Uzbekistan. Since Red once again used the FBI, used her as a pawn in his game to expand his empire. Liz scowled.

Raymond Reddington.

The source for all of her problems, her questions, and her frustrations but also the source for her solutions, her answers, and satisfaction.

She couldn’t get him out of her head no matter how hard she pushed him away. There were nights she would wake from a dream with his name on her lips, unable to quite remember what it was she had been dreaming about exactly. Other nights she woke up in a sweat, shaking and remembering exactly what she had been dreaming about. 

A blush deepened the flush on her face from her workout at the memory. Her body thrummed with the memory of how she felt after each dream.

Liz found it hard to look Reddington in the eyes the next day after having those dreams.

Her already flushed face deepened in color at the thought. Her body thrummed with the memory of how she felt after each dream.

Liz clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut forcing her thoughts back to her anger. Anger was the only thing she could hold onto to push those thoughts away.

Since Aram couldn’t figure out what the device she found in her stuffed rabbit was, Liz had hit another brick wall. She was loathe to go to Reddington for help in her journey on figuring out what the Fulcrum was. She refused to give him what he wanted. She needed answers and she was certain that if she gave him the Fulcrum, he would be gone before she got any.

Her music stopped suddenly and her phone started ringing. 

Liz looked at the caller ID and her scowl only deepened as she saw it was Nick’s Pizza calling once more. She hit the decline button and started to gather her shower caddy and head for the locker room.

She turned the water on and waited for it to warm up as she brushed her teeth.

Reddington could wait until he got into the Post Office. She was still adhering to the “strictly professional” way of interacting with him. If he thought he could just call her at any time of day or night and she would just come running, he could think again.

Liz rinsed her mouth out and undressed before stepping into the shower letting the warm water run over her aching muscles. She felt the tension starting to uncoil slightly as she washed her hair and let her thoughts wander once more. No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts slipped back to her dreams.

Despite not fully remembering the dreams, her brain was able to put together the pieces. Though she resisted as hard as she could, her run had made her tired and the warm water made her compliant to glide into a daydream.

Flashes of Reddington hovering over her with his lips close enough to feel but not actually touching her. He whispered to her over and over, “What do you want, Lizzy?” 

She never answered in her dreams only reached for him to come closer. Closer to settle between her open legs, closer to complete her body’s wishes.

Liz felt her hand start to slide down her body. Before she could think about whether or not it was a bad idea to do this she reached her wet center and started stroking. Her breathing became heavier and ragged. 

_Reddington prowling toward her as she lay in bed waiting._

_The way Reddington could wear the hell out of that hat. The way he would take it off his head and toss it on the night stand._

_Reddington placing his hands on either side of her head as he leaned in closer and whispered in her ear._

Liz bit her lower lip and started to groan as she felt the tension in her lower belly tighten.

“Lizzy?” 

Liz shrieked in surprise as the voice cut into her thoughts and echoed around the locker room. She ripped her hand away as if she was burned. She whipped her head out the shower door to see Reddington standing in the doorway looking at her with that ever present smirk on his face.

“Reddington! What are you doing in the women’s locker room,” she yelled at him. Mad at herself for giving into her fantasy and mad at the man for showing up at the exact wrong time. She couldn’t even have a moment to herself without him barging into her reality.

“Well, you weren’t answering my calls so I came here to give you another case. You did say we’re strictly professional now and I am at your place of work. I can’t help it if you’ve elected to stay here while the city's power is out. Yet another dazzling example of tax payers' money hard at work fixing the infrastructure of his city.”

His eyes were firmly fixed on hers. She stared back, angry. Angry at him for walking in on her in the shower, angry at herself for allowing this to happen, and angry at him for technically being right. 

Liz was the first one to break eye contact when she rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“Well, would you mind giving me a moment to finish up here?”

Reddington smiled, “Oh, of course, Agent Keen! Whatever you need. I’ll just be in your office awaiting your return.”

He turned on his heel and left the locker room.

Liz sighed again and quickly finished up her shower. She was toweling off in a hurry when she groaned suddenly. 

She had forgotten her clothes in her office after having been distracted by Reddington’s call. 

“Of all the fucking days to forget,” she despaired as she pressed her palm into her forehead and closed her eyes.

Liz tightened the towel around her chest and double checked that it was tucked properly before marching her way to her office. She kept her shoulders back and head held high determined not to show any weakness or embarrassment. The look was ruined by the fact that she was padding around barefoot in a government blacksite, her face still flushed from her earlier exertions.

As she passed through the doorway, she stopped dead in her tracks. Reddington was laying on her couch, the picture of ease and comfort. He had popped her earphones in and was listening to her workout playlist with his eyes closed, foot tapping out a beat. His hands were crossed behind his head, fingers linked, fedora placed on the armrest on top of the pile of clothes she set out for herself.

Seeing his hands crossed like that reminded her the last time she saw them that way. It was right before Berlin had quite literally crash landed in America. Before Luther Braxton and her memories were painfully brought closer to the surface. But only just close enough to brush her fingertips against not close enough for her to see them clearly through the pool of her memory.

He had said nothing was worse than losing her.

Liz had been so mad at him that she could have stabbed another pen into his neck. He had told her another one of his outlandish stories to buy more of her time before he handed her his gun. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to react to him telling her in no uncertain terms that he was ready to die for her. This man, that she still didn’t truly know, was ready to die for her.

Reddington had knelt before her with his hands behind his head and looked up at her with such determination that she had felt her rage and questions start to slip away. Liz was grateful that the plane had interrupted that moment.

“I know it’s hot in here, Lizzy, but I highly doubt Harold will be pleased with one of his agents running around in a towel.”

Liz focused her eyes back to the present and saw Red staring straight into her eyes again. She held his gaze for several moments mentally willing him to look away first. His green eyes never dropped below her own before they closed once more. She smirked at the small victory before she walked closer to grab her clothes.

Liz studied his face for a moment before grabbing his fedora. She tried not to think of how good he looked in her daydream with it on and dropped it on his face with a flump sound. Her smirk grew at the indignant noise he made. That should teach him to be so cavalier.

She grabbed her clothes and turned back toward the locker room.

“I really need to get laid,” Liz mumbled to herself under her breath.

Once Reddington was sure she was out of sight, he groaned. Lizzy was going to be the death of him he knew it. He certainly hadn’t meant to walk in on her showering but then he had heard the sounds she was making in the shower. He wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing but he had been sure she wasn’t just showering. He made sure to make his presence known before it got any more embarrassing for either of them. But once he returned to her office and noticed the clothes piled on the couch, he knew the gods must hate him.

He refused to behave any other way except like a gentleman, but feeling her staring at him like that made it very hard not to open his eyes and at least take a peek at her long legs. When he was just about to reach his breaking point, he decided to speak up and break her train of thought that caused her to stare at him so closely.

However much it made him uncomfortable it also gave him some hope. Reddington understood her frustrations with him but he would not be the reason she discovered what actually happened that night. He would rather die than cause her that pain. But she seemed to be easing back into their old ways before Luther Braxton. Not just their old ways, but Reddington detected a shift towards something more. He wasn’t sure that she knew just how good his hearing was.

Reddington was sure, however, that she hadn’t meant for him to hear what she said on her way back to the locker room.

“This is going to be an interesting week,” Reddington murmured to himself as he closed his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Kudos, comments, and notes on how I could do better are always welcome. Title of this chapter comes from the Bananarama song.
> 
> 07.22.19 Update: Just fixed some grammar here and there. Added little snippets to make it smoother.


	2. Hotter Than Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy has had a really rough week, pushing her closer to her breaking point. it doesn't help that Reddington is pushing all of her buttons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter, everyone! I'm honestly not even sure where this fic is going 100%. Usually, I write out the fic and work with my gf on the edits. But this time I am flying solo and going rogue by posting the fics immediately after I have written and edited them. Crazy.
> 
> I will say this chapter is a bit of a filler to move it along. I keep running into writer's block and can't seem to get Lizzy and Red where I think they should be.
> 
> All the mistakes are my own but I try my best.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'Hotter Than Hell' by Kiss. 
> 
> These are not my characters and I am not making money from them.

“I can’t believe you actually tackled that guy into a pile of garbage,” Donald Ressler stated in amazement at his partner as they exited the elevator at the Post Office.

“I can’t believe he threw a full garbage bag at me right before that,” Liz grumbled as they made their way back to the office they shared.

“Cheer up, Liz,” Donald laughed at his partner’s unfortunate luck and threw his arm around her shoulders. “Your week will turn around.”

Liz’s week _had_ been terrible. It all started with Reddington surprising her during an… intimate moment in the shower on Monday morning. 

Wednesday, she had been chasing a suspect and it ended in a fist fight where she gained a couple of bruised ribs.

Thursday, Reddington came by the Post Office to report some more intel.

In theory, his visit had been fine. He had left her alone for the most part. Just straight reporting from Reddington. Well, as straight as you can get with his quips and disparaging remarks about how useless the FBI was. But even if all he did was give his update and leave, Liz would have still been bothered by Reddington.

Liz kept finding it difficult to focus during the debriefing. Reddington's lilting baritone lulled her into complacency as she stood there with her hands on her hips. From the outside, she looked like the picture of a serious FBI agent concentrating on her CI and his valuable information. In her head, however, she was raking her eyes over his body imaging what his tie would feel like wrapped around her hand as she pulled him closer with it.

It was probably very soft and textured with the threads of whatever ridiculous design on it.

Several times she would come back to her senses after having just drifted off with her eyes laser-focused on his thin lips. She would flick her eyes back up to Reddington's green gaze that was drilling back into her, never once breaking his speech. How is it that she could be so angry at him but still melt like a stick of butter in July just by listening to him talk? Meanwhile, he seemed like stone. Cool to the touch, an unchanging facade.

Honestly, it should be illegal for him to wield his voice like that.

It made her think of her dreams. Which in turn made her remember that she couldn't recall the last time she felt any sort of release in that department. Ever since she decided to chain up her ex-husband in an abandoned ship, Liz wasn't exactly in the mood for dating.

The dreams she was having of Reddington were getting more intense and she was getting more and more frustrated. Before Monday, she had held off so long from actually touching herself. Too ashamed and embarrassed by the idea of picturing the Concierge of Crime as she touched herself to follow through. No matter how easily the images came unbidden to her mind

After Monday's incident, she resisted the urge out of embarrassment and fear that she might get interrupted again.

All of the pressure building up in her was going to make her snap soon. She could feel it. That could be dangerous in her line of work being surrounded by filthy criminals while in possession of a gun and a nasty temper.

Liz huffed coming back to the conversation with her partner, "Seeing as it's Friday, I think it's a bit too late for a turnaround in my week."

Donald stopped at the threshold of their office and turned his head towards Liz. 

"Hey, I hear ya, Keen. How about we go out for some drinks?"

"Drinks sound amazing!" A voice interrupted.

Liz had opened her mouth to answer her partner but whipped her head around to find Reddington lounging on their couch, her current bed, as if he owned it. 

"Reddington. What are you doing here?" 

Ressler sounded shocked yet intrigued by Reddington's presence. A far cry from where they were even a year ago.

"I had some business with Agent Mojtabai. Thought I would stop by and see how the case was going."

Liz heard Ressler say something in response to Reddington but she wasn't listening. When she and Ressler walked in through the door, he still had his arm around her shoulders. After the mild surprise of seeing Red in their office, she registered the look he had on his face.

Red's voice had sounded cheerful and nonchalant but his eyes tracked Ressler's arm as it draped so casually across her shoulders. Liz would almost call the look a jealous one but she recalled him saying something about jealousy being a "base emotion."

Whatever that meant.

Liz decided to test her theory.

She turned her face toward Ressler as if he was saying the most fascinating things. She hooked her arm around his back and leaned into him as if she was a little tired. She felt Ressler unconsciously squeeze her shoulders.

Out of the corner of her eye, Reddington didn't even move. His voice never lost its pace or pitch.

When she turned back to look at him Reddington was staring at her dead in the eyes. Locked into his gaze she wondered how he did that. While everyone was sweating their asses off in the Post Office, herself included, he never once broke a sweat. Even with his full 3-piece suit and fedora, he looked so cool and unbothered.

But his eyes held something more fiery in them. Searing her in a most delicious way.

Liz saw the spark of something in those eyes and she smirked knowing that he may be able to put up a good bluff with his body language, but she knew him pretty well by now. One look in his eyes and she could see what page he was on. Reddington arched a brow at her smirk not sure what she was thinking exactly. 

"So that settles it. We'll all go out for a round of drinks," Ressler stated. "I'll see ya at the usual spot, eh Keen?"

He squeezed Liz's shoulder once more and let his arm fall away before he headed out the door.

Liz turned back to Reddington with her arms crossed and was about to saying something about not recalling inviting him out for drinks. But Ressler popped his head around the door frame with a roguish smile.

"Also, don't forget to shower, Keen. You smell like someone threw you into the Potomac."

Ressler ducked back out in a hurry with a laugh evading Liz's wrath.

Liz weighed whether or not it would be worth it to chase after him just to hit him for that comment. But she decided she was too tired to care. She would get him for that later.

Instead, she heaved another sigh with a roll of her eyes and turned back to the criminal on her couch/bed. He hadn't moved much with his arms spread across the back and arm but when she had turned back she saw the telltale flick of his eyes back to hers. As if he was afraid he would be caught with his eyes anywhere else but fixed on hers.

"You heard the man. I have to take a shower. So that means you have to leave."

She stepped toward her bag of clothes on the floor next to where he was sitting, hoping he would move. He didn't. 

"You know, there was this one time I didn't take a shower for almost two weeks," Reddington started.

Liz rolled her eyes to the heavens once more wondering why she was surrounded by so many infuriating men. She sat down on the other end of the couch, waiting for him to launch into one of his stories. They often seemed like they had no place in the conversation until they did.

As a profiler, Lizzy realized he used them as a deflection or a way to convey what he was feeling without putting himself out there emotionally. Easier to deal with his emotions and feelings if he put them in the past tense. Something he had overcome and outgrown, vanquished.

"I was in Algeria heading toward Morocco smuggling some artifacts from Egypt. I figured that no one would recognize what I was carrying all the way west in Morocco. My guide and our camels were staying inland and keeping away from the coast; going through the desert. We were hoping to make it to Marrakesh to lay low for a bit before heading north to Fes and onto Tangier. After that, it's just a small boat ride to Tarifa, Spain and we would be golden. All was going according to plan as we crossed the border into the dunes of the Erg Chebbi when a caravan of bandits attacked us. 

"My guide was killed, they took the camels, and only left me with a single flask half full of water."

Reddington paused there and Liz straightened up in her seat. She hadn't realized that she was leaning forward so far that their knees were almost touching; enraptured by his story. She couldn't imagine Egyptian artifacts so priceless that people were willing to kill for them. But in Reddington's line of work she is sure that he isn't telling her the whole story. Just enough to wet her appetite and get her hooked to keep coming back for more.

"I wandered the dunes for days until I found myself in the Atlas Mountains. I can never recall being as hot as I was wandering around those dunes. But I can recall the beautiful, starry sky every night. I eventually found an old pisé building and passed out in the doorway.

"Turns out I was just outside Ouarzazarte which is now the film capital of Morocco. It's where they filmed parts of _Lawrence of Arabia_. I was taken in by some locals and nursed back to health after being dehydrated and malnourished for two weeks or so. I smelled _terrible_ I'm sure."

Liz waited for the moral of the story to make itself apparent but he just sat there staring off into space remembering his journey.

"I am not sure I understand."

What I am trying to say, Lizzy, is that you can be a two days walk away from your salvation. Not an easy journey but manageable. It doesn't mean much if you're just a greedy fool wandering around the desert looking for lost treasure. The stars may be a comfort in the dark of the night, but in the light of day all you need is some water and a compass to point you home."

As he continued staring straight ahead, her eyes dropped down to his lips. 

"A compass," she repeated to herself in a murmur.

Liz drew her eyes up to Reddington's and found them looking back at her once more. A pull deep inside her urged her to move closer. He looked so relaxed despite everything he had done and everything between the two of them. 

Why couldn't she have that peace? Instead her conscious riddled her with guilt that was eating her from the inside. Making it hard to keep living and sleep at night. 

Liz felt her body tense up once more having not even noticed that it relaxed during Reddington's story. Her lip curled into a sneer.

"That's all well and good, Reddington. But I'm not in a desert and a nice, hot shower is less than a minute walk from here."

Liz stood up and grabbed a towel for the shower as she felt Reddington's eyes still on her. She turned toward the door and started walking to the showers.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Liz clenched her eyes closed in frustration. She turned back without a word and saw Reddington holding out her duffle bag full of clothes with that ever present smirk in place. 

"Wouldn't want a repeat of Monday, would we?"

Liz narrowed her eyes at Reddington. Without a word, she snatched the bag and marched off toward the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Lizzy is reaching her breaking point on multiple fronts. What's a girl to do ;)
> 
> Constructive criticism, suggestions, and comments are always welcome.
> 
> 07.22.19 Update: Just fixed some grammar here and there. Added little snippets to make it smoother.


	3. Long Hot Summer Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy wakes up in a bed that isn't hers and confronts the man who put her there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hit a writer's block and thought this fic was dead back in May. While I was writing I rushed through watching Season 03 and I lost the thread. 
> 
> I decided to take a break from watching Blacklist and focus on other things.
> 
> When I picked up Blacklist again I started from the beginning, honing a theory I have about Reddington and who he is exactly to Lizzy. (I have not seen past Season 03 because I am behind. Please no spoilers!)
> 
> The reset really helped me get back into the groove of this fic. I have a better idea of where it is going but still not 100% sure.
> 
> Thank you for your patience in waiting for me to update this.
> 
> All the mistakes are my own but I try my best.
> 
> Chapter title is from the song 'Long Hot Summer Night' by The Jimi Hendrix Experience .
> 
> These are not my characters and I am not making money from them.

Liz woke up in a strange bed, her breathing hard from yet another frustrating dream that left her hanging. Her eyes popped open, pupils blown wide in arousal. She groaned in frustration as she felt the warmth pool in her lower belly.

The first thing she noticed was that she was in a nice hotel room. Not anywhere near something she could afford. She tried to focus on the digital clock on the side table and realized that she was hungover at 2 in the morning.

She didn’t remember leaving the bar.

She tried to reach back in her memory of earlier in the night and what exactly happened at the bar.

_Liz remembered meeting Ressler at their usual spot and seeing Reddington occupying the seat that was unofficially hers. She sat down next to Ressler and ordered a drink and immediately noticed that Reddington was on his absolute best behavior with her._

_It had put her on edge wondering what exactly he wanted from her._

After that, it got a little blurry but she could hear Ressler ordering more shots all around over and over.

Her blurry memories came into a little sharper focus as she saw herself trying to keep up with Reddington. Her drunken brain had told her it was a way of showing dominance. Her hungover brain told her she was beyond stupid trying to outdrink a man who was almost always drinking.

She sat up slowly trying to take stock of her situation. Looking down at her body still in the clothes from the night before. Her shoes and socks were off and stacked neatly by the bed. There was a bottle of water next to the clock.

“How dare he,” Liz muttered to herself as she came to the conclusion that Reddington brought her back to his hotel room.

She stood up out of the bed and stormed out of the bedroom in search of the man in question.

She found him doing the crossword at a table. She found herself lost in memories of him in a similar position when they first met.

Lizzy wondered if she would stab him in the neck with a pen again.

“Ah hello, sweetheart! I was wondering if you were going to sleep the whole night through.”

Red folded his newspaper up when he saw her and a wide smile beamed across his face.

Lizzy didn’t return the greeting or the smile. When she heard the endearment slip out so easily from his thin lips her anger ticked up another notch.

She was breathing heavily and her eyes were unfocused by the hangover and the rage she could feel building.

“Where’s Dembe?”

Red’s smile fell a little at that, “I sent him home. You were quite the handful earlier. I told him I could handle you.”

He looked at her standing about ten feet away. Bare feet, rumpled clothes, and slightly mussed hair and make-up. In another context, he would find her irresistibly sexy. However, the closer he looked at her, he noticed her aggressive stance and the angry fire dancing in her eyes.

“You know, you have some nerve bringing me back here as if you actually care about me. You should have just had Dembe drop me off at the Post Office.”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t tell your left from right. I wasn’t about to let you go back there by yourself.”

Her anger flared at the endearment once more. Her brain was addled slightly by the alcohol from the night before and she couldn’t believe how calm Reddington was just sitting there treating her like a child. An idea popped into her head.

She needed him to feel what she was feeling. It’s hard to argue with someone if they won’t get mad and argue back. This was really going to hurt.

“Red, are you my father?” She asked calmly with her arms crossed staring him dead in the eye.

Reddington paused, shocked at the shift in demeanor and subject change. A change to a touchy topic that he thought he had put to rest long ago.

Without waiting for an answer, Liz continued, “Then stop treating me like I’m your daughter that needs to be disciplined.”

The smile finally slid off of Red’s face and Liz curled her mouth into a sneer, feeling a dark satisfaction in being able to wipe it off.

“Elizabeth, I am a patient man. But if you keep pushing my buttons like this, my patience will wear thin.”

He left the threat hanging in the air between them.

Liz blinked at him slowly, once. Then laughed in the face of Reddington’s menacing persona. 

Reddington recoiled at the sound. This laugh was not the beautiful, melodious laugh of Lizzy’s he was familiar with. This laugh was humorless and full of spite.

“You have jerked me back and forth about my past, about who you are to me, about Tom. Wherever the hell he is now. I’m obviously upset and you just sit there looking so put together without a care in the world! My whole marriage to that man was a lie! He’s a psychopath who can turn himself into anybody he needs to be!”

Liz started pacing the floor in a huff, each turn moved her closer toward Reddington.

"You pretend to care about me. I'm foolish enough to believe it only to find out you don't care about me. You only care about protecting yourself with the Fulcrum!" 

Reddington sat very still and watched her like one watches a tiger in the zoo; stunningly exotic with the power radiating off her, thankful for the bars. Reddington wasn’t so lucky as to have bars in between him and Lizzy.

Liz continued her rant as she paced away from Red, “For all I know, you could have been the one to place Tom in my life!”

Reddington held his breath as he watched Lizzy stop dead in her tracks with her back towards him. She slowly turned around to face him, dread written all over her face. He could practically see the gears in her mind fall into place. 

Liz uncrossed her arms and felt her hands curl into tight fists. She watched Reddington chew on the corner of his mouth, not saying anything or giving away any of his other tells he had.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You placed Tom in my life.” She stalked toward him. “Don’t give me any more of the silver-tongued tales you spin. I expect you to give me the dignity of a yes or no. No more; no less.”

Reddington scooted his chair back slightly to angle his body toward her better.

“Yes, I am the one who hired Tom Keen to enter your life.”

Reddington watched the pain flash across her face before the soul-shattering look crumpled it. Despite the ache he felt looking at her fall apart in front of him, the only thing he would have changed was who he chose to place in her life. He would still do the whole thing over again if it meant protecting Lizzy from bigger monsters than himself.

Liz dropped her head looking at the ground. Reddington stared at her bowed head unyielding, unwilling to show any weakness in what he considered was the right choice at the time.

It was so quiet after his confession that all he could hear was Elizabeth’s heaving breaths. Then a sniffle.

When Liz raised her eyes back to the man in front of her she didn’t really think about what she was going to do next. It just happened.

After all that Reddington put her through, he was sitting in front of her with the look on his face that said, “I know better than you, little girl. You don’t even know half the battles I fight for you.”

She felt something snap deep inside of her.

Red saw something wild in her eyes then. He had never seen that look on her face before and he was starting to get unsettled.

“Lizzy.”

"You have some fucking nerve, Raymond Reddington." 

She stalked closer to him the anger in her coiling tight. He gripped the arm rests of his chair uncertain of what she was going to do.

“Lizzy, I-”

Liz let out a yell then and launched herself at Reddington, fists flying. She was able to cuff him on his jaw with a right hook. The chair he was sitting in was tipped backward and they went sprawling on the plush carpeted floor. 

Reddington was momentarily stunned by the hit, mostly in shock. It was also hard for him to react when he was frozen by the feel of her body pressed to his.

He snapped out of it when she hit him in the ribs and yelled.

"I don't want to hear your lies anymore!"

Her fists continued to fly. Reddington was able to block most of them with his forearms and rolled Lizzy off of him.

He used the weight of his body and pinned her to the floor. His knees straddled her hips. His hands struggled to grapple with hers until finally he managed to pin her wrists down on either side of her head.

They were both breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes. 

Liz noticed that he still looked only slightly rumpled. 

"Are you done with this little tantrum yet? I only ever have your best interests in mind. Now, I never meant for Tom to get as close as he did to you.”

Liz growled at the mention of Tom’s name.

Red squeezed her wrists tighter as she tried to push back against him again. Through clenched teeth he continued.

“No! You’re going to listen to me, Lizzy. You want the truth don’t you?”

Liz stopped struggling and huffed out a breath through her nose. Red relaxed back slightly.

“Tom was supposed to be a friend of a friend to you. He inserted himself romantically in your life. When I saw what was happening. I fired him and told him to back off. He broke the terms of our agreement. But Tom is selfish. So he allied himself with someone he thought was bigger and badder than me to get closer to you. By then he entrenched himself into your life too deeply and I wasn’t ready to come out of hiding just yet.’

Red sighed and clenched his eyes closed in regret.

“I just needed someone to keep an eye on you. Tom took is too far. I wanted to make sure you were safe. Just like last night. All I was trying to do is make sure you had a safe place to sleep after a night of drunkenness."

Liz struggled some more trying to pry herself free of the iron grip on her wrists.

"You aren't in charge of me. I can handle myself without your help."

Reddington sighed.

"Does handling yourself include locking lips with Agent Ressler because he dared you to do it?"

Liz stopped fussing and looked up into his eyes. Anger still simmered beneath her surface like a boiling pot. In his face, she saw the care he had for her but also something else. That same look he had when she was in her office doorway with Ressler's arm around her shoulders. 

A plan formulated in her brain. She was going to make Reddington regret the day he surrendered himself to the FBI.

Liz laughed at him again. Making sure her spitefulness seeped through.

"Reddington are you jealous of how close I have gotten with, Ress? Are you jealous that Tom got to be closer to me than you’ve ever been?"

She readjusted her hips below him then.

Red's face twitched just below his left eye but he said nothing. 

Still pinned to the ground, she watched as he went somewhere in his head. His eyes no longer laser focused on hers. Liz knew then that she was onto something so she pressed on.

"Would you still look at me the same way if I told you I _fucked_ Donald Ressler."

Reddington's head jerked back as if she had hit him again.

Liz saw her chance and was able to rip her wrists free from his grip. She rolled them once more so she was on top. Her knees pinned his elbows to the floor.

Liz smiled in triumph at having been able to subdue one of the FBI's top most wanted criminals.

Her breathing slowed and she looked down at her quarry. Reddington stared back at her unmoving. His face turned back into stone.

Liz examined him and noticed something. It was about 4 o'clock in the morning and they just rolled around on the floor in a tussle. Despite all of that, he still looked damn good in his vest, tie, and slacks. She looked down at herself and decided she looked like the hot garbage the man threw at her earlier in the week.

She wondered what it was that could undo Raymond Reddington. 

Clearly not a fight with her on the floor. Not the jealousy she saw below his surface. Even the D.C. summers couldn't reach the cool Raymond Reddington. Every time he was shackled up, Liz noticed that not only was he put together but looked _very_ comfortable. Verbally sparring with criminal masterminds was no sweat for him.

She thought back and tried to find a time when Reddington _ever_ looked undone in her presence. After a moment, she realized that it only ever happened once.

The only time she could remember seeing Red ruffled was during the Luther Braxton incident at The Factory in the Bering Sea.

After that, it had become difficult for her to sleep. Memories of the fire plaguing her dreams. 

She had asked Aram for the security footage from the level 10 blacksite giving some excuse or another. Sweet Aram never asked too many questions of Liz.

She would stay up late in her motel room and watch as Reddington tore through The Factory looking for her. 

Tuxedo jacket long gone. Crisp white sleeves rolled up above the elbow. Blood trickling down the side of his head staining his collar. Top button of his shirt undone. Determined look in his eyes as he strolled through the exercise yard, carrying the shotgun as easy as if it was a bouquet of flowers.

It hit her then. It was her. She could undo him. 

Her breathing quickened once more. But not in anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops a cliff hanger. I would say sorry but if I didn't leave this hanging, the chapter would be HUGE.
> 
> Please do not feed me to the wolves.
> 
> If you see something that needs to be fixed, please feel free to kindly say so.
> 
> Constructive criticism, suggestions, and comments are always welcome.


End file.
